Chapter 17 - The Wrong Child
Marcus caught David before he reached Canal Street.
I never saw the arrest.
I was already running toward the command vehicle.
“Call the school!”
Agent Reynolds was beside me.
“We already are.”
My hands shook uncontrollably.
“Get Lily out!”
“The school is locked down.”
“What about the man filming?”
“Chicago PD is tracing the stream.”
Thomas called.
I answered instantly.
“Sarah?”
“Where are you?”
“At the hospital. What happened?”
I told him.
“I’m going to the school.”
“No. Police have it locked down.”
“I’m going.”
“Thomas—”
“I’m not asking.”
Normally, I would have argued.
I didn’t.
The drive north was the longest thirty minutes of my life.
Police vehicles surrounded the school.
Parents gathered behind barriers.
I pushed toward the entrance.
A detective stopped me.
“Mrs. Vance?”
“Yes!”
“Your daughter is safe.”
My knees nearly collapsed.
“Where?”
“Inside with the principal.”
“Let me see her.”
“In a moment.”
“No. Now.”
Agent Reynolds stepped in.
“Let her through.”
I found Lily in the library wrapped in a blanket.
She ran to me.
“Mom!”
I held her so tightly she squeaked.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Did anyone touch you?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
Her teacher answered.
“A man approached the east playground fence and called Lily’s name.”
My heart stopped.
“But another child happened to be wearing Lily’s purple jacket.”
“What?”
Lily explained.
“I gave Emma my jacket because she was cold.”
The man followed Emma.
Not Lily.
That mistake gave security time to react.
A teacher activated the lockdown.
The man ran.
Police caught him three blocks away.
“Who was he?” I asked.
Agent Reynolds entered behind me.
“Name is Raymond Sloane. Forty-six. Prior convictions for burglary and stalking.”
“David hired him?”
“We believe so.”
Lily was listening.
I hated that.
“Sweetheart, can you go with Mrs. Greene for a minute?”
“No.”
“Lily—”
“No. Everyone always sends me away before talking about Dad.”
The room went quiet.
She looked at me with fierce determination.
“I want to know.”
I knelt.
“Your father paid a man to watch the school.”
Her eyes filled.
“Why?”
“He thought it would scare me.”
“So I was right.”
“What?”
“He doesn’t want me. He wants to win.”
I wanted to deny it.
But lying would hurt her more.
“Yes.”
She cried silently.
I pulled her close.
“I’m sorry.”
“I hate him.”
“You’re allowed to feel anything you feel.”
“Can I never see him again?”
“Yes.”
“Even when I’m grown up?”
“That will be your choice.”
She wiped her face.
“I already choose.”
That afternoon, David was charged federally with conspiracy to commit extortion, interstate stalking, witness intimidation, and attempted coercion involving a minor.
The news spread quickly.
Cameras gathered outside the courthouse.
But something unexpected happened.
Raymond Sloane talked.
A lot.
He had been hired through an intermediary.
Not Daniel.
Not Ethan.
A woman.
Agent Reynolds showed us surveillance footage.
The woman wore sunglasses and a blond wig.
But I recognized her mouth.
Rebecca recognized her too.
“No way,” she whispered.
Julianne Mercer.
David’s former mistress.
The woman who had supposedly abandoned him in the Bahamas.
The woman who had signed an affidavit against him.
The woman who claimed she wanted nothing to do with him.
Arthur stared at the screen.
“She went back.”
Elena shook her head.
“Or she never left.”
Marcus looked at the financial records.
“Julianne received eighty thousand dollars from a crypto account last month.”
“David doesn’t have eighty thousand dollars.”
“No,” Marcus said.
“But somebody financing him does.”
I looked toward Rebecca.
“Daniel?”
She shook her head.
“He doesn’t have that kind of money either.”
Agent Reynolds placed another photograph on the table.
A man leaving Julianne’s apartment.
Expensive suit.
Silver hair.
Familiar face.
Arthur went completely still.
I recognized him from old company galas.
“Who is that?”
Arthur whispered the name.
“Charles Whitmore.”
I remembered.
Former board member.
David’s mentor.
The man Arthur had forced out of Vance Logistics nine years earlier after a hostile takeover attempt.
Agent Reynolds leaned back.
“Now we know David didn’t build this operation alone.”
Arthur’s face hardened.
“No.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
He stared at Charles’s photograph.
“This was never about David getting revenge.”
May you like
Arthur’s fingers tightened around his cane.
“David is being used.”
